Scant Romanticism
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: For someone who doesn't always get to prove to the world he has a softer side, Valentine's Day holds a tremendous amount of importance. It's in the little things, he believes, like love-notes and rose petals. On the third Valentine's Day he is spending with the woman of his dreams, he hopes those small tokens will amount to something big. (One chapter, EO, M for suggestiveness)


_**Happy Valentine's Day**_

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

He'd never been one for romance.

He never needed to be romantic. With his ex-wife, at first, he was too young to know how to be romantic, and as the years rolled by and he learned how to make a woman feel loved, wanted, needed...special...it wasn't his ex-wife on whom he planned to use the newly discovered knowledge.

Roses, candlelight, dark-chocolate covered strawberries, a glass jar with three-hundred-and-sixty-five handwritten love notes inside, a small black velvet box, and a bottle of red wine he'd never been able to afford or wanted to splurge on until tonight. Perfection.

He took a breath and sighed nervously as he glanced at all of the things he had prepared, knowing without a doubt that none of it would be terribly important to the woman he'd be romancing tonight, but he also knew it was only because she didn't feel deserving of it all. He grinned. He was going to convince she deserved every bit, and so much more.

She was worth more than he could give, he believed, she always had been and always will be. He heard the light knock on the door, he cleared his throat, and took a look in the hall mirror. He made a face, realizing he wasn't the most attractive man she could be with this evening, but he ran a hand through his hair and thanked God and all his angels that she chose him anyway.

He ran toward the door, swung it open, and his jaw dropped. The side of her that he didn't get to see at work, the soft and feminine part of her, struck his heart and zapped his mind. His eyes traveled the length of her, her curves making parts of him throb. He couldn't stop staring at her shimmering red dress and high strappy heels, the way her wavy hair was left down and brushed her shoulders every time she moved, and the smile on her face that seemed to have every emotion in the world etched into it.

"El," she prodded, smirking. "Can I come in, or are we gonna eat out in the driveway?"

He laughed, scratched his head, and moved out of the way. He offered to take her coat, and he held his breath as he peeled the red trench off of her. His fingertips grazed her skin, sending small shocks throughout his entire body. "You look so beautiful," he whispered, kissing the back of her head before turning to hang up her coat on the hook.

"What did you do?" She gasped as she looked around his living room. The glow of the candles was the only light, but she could see the path of rose petals on the carpet leading to the bedroom, the small box next to her place setting on the table, the paper-filled jar, and she chuckled again when her eyes landed on the wine. "You sprung for Chateau La Nerthe Cuvée? I can't believe you..."

"I think we deserve to make tonight incredible," he interrupted, smiling. He walked over to her, took her hand, and whispered, "I don't always get to spoil you the way I want, so in moments where I can...I do."

She was surprised when he pulled out her chair for her, and she followed him with her loving gaze as he walked around the table to sit across from her. He grabbed the bottle, went to work with the corkscrew, and then winked at her as he poured two glasses full. He handed one to her and held up his own. "To the night...everything changed. Two year ago, today, to be exact."

Her head tilted. "You remember," she said, her heart bursting again.

"I remember every moment of every day," he told her, "since you walked into my life." He swirled the wine around in his glass. "But that night... I close my eyes, Liv, and I can re-live it. That's how much I can recall every detail. The way you blushed when I finally got you out of those clothes, the sound you made when I..."

"Hey, Lothario," she teased, tapping her glass against his, "I remember it all, too, and I can't believe that we are here, now, because of that night."

He pointed to the black box, and he said, "Open it, because even though that night led us here, tonight...might lead us someplace else."

She gave him a confused look, slowly reaching out a hand for the box. "El?"

"Please," he croaked, his throat having gone dry. He took a long sip of his wine and said, "Open it."

She lifted it, wonder washing over her, and she flipped the top up. She gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. "This is..." she swallowed hard, refusing to cry. "Are you sure? I'm not easy to..."

"I have never been more sure of anything," he cut her off and reached for her hand. He ran his thumb over her knuckles. "You're right, you're not easy to live with, but because of the past two years, I can't live without you. I want to wake up every morning with you, sleep with you every night. You are my home, and I guess...what I'm saying...move in with me, so that I know it'll always be you. I will always come home to you."

She gave his hand a squeeze and looked back down at the box in her other hand. In it, a pair of gorgeous diamond earrings sat in the middle of the ring of a key-chain, one with her name engraved in the metal, with a brand new copy of the key to his house.

She blinked, feeling her eyes fill with tears, and she nodded. "Of course," she said, rising out of her chair and running around to his side of the table. She laughed when he backed his chair up, knowing that he expected her to crawl into his lap. "What's the matter?" she asked him, then, cupping his face as she sat on him. "I know that look."

"Baby," he whispered when she strattled him, his hands smoothing up her back, "I know you don't, uh, you know...the long term thing scares you, but...and I'm trying not to rush with you, but I..." He paused, took a breath, and said, "There's, uh, something else...another question...but I'm not gonna ask if you..."

She stopped his nervous chatter with a kiss, and against his lips she whispered, "Yes."

He moaned, holding her tighter with one hand while the other hand slipped into his pocket, grabbing another gift he'd been afraid of giving her. He pulled it out of his jeans and with a shuddering moan, he slid it on her left ring finger.

"You made this...the most romantic night of my life, and I haven't even been here for ten minutes." She kissed his cheeks and his nose, his chin and his lips. "But you know I don't need all of..."

"It's the one day out of the year where I know you won't punch me for pampering you," he chuckled. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she returned, kissing him a little harder and more passionately. She moaned, running her hands up and down his chest, and she silently begged him to carry her down the rose-petal road toward the bedroom.

He grunted a bit, lifting her up with him as he got out of the chair. He carried her through the white door, and when he laid her gently on the mattress, he whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


End file.
